


Trouble in Paradise

by masongirl



Series: The best laid plans [6]
Category: Band of Brothers (TV 2001)
Genre: Affection, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arguing, Established Relationship, Fights, M/M, Making Up, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26275306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masongirl/pseuds/masongirl
Summary: A not-so-simple assignment leads to Joe's and George's first fight.
Relationships: George Luz/Joseph Toye
Series: The best laid plans [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1682071
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Trouble in Paradise

The incessant buzzing of a moth that snuck into the kitchen drives Joe up the wall. How many times does he have to tell his flatmates to close the goddamn window? Why is it so difficult to understand that all sorts of ugly critters will enter the place if they leave it open? He stomps back and forth under the lamp the insect is drawn to and tries to kill it with his statistics textbook.

"I can't hear my own damn thoughts from your tantrum." George looks up from Joe's laptop darkly, sitting cross-legged on the grey sofa by the window.

There are discarded lecture notes all around him and the remains of the instant soup he pilfered from Joe's cabinet. He keeps twisting the cap of his flavoured water as he attempts to solve the problem in Joe's assignment, and Joe wants to wrench that bottle out of his hands and throw it away, he's that supremely irritated. No matter how much he wants to wrap his mind around the method he's supposed to use, he can't. At this point, he's ready to throw in the towel and just go the fuck to sleep. Can't he just leave it as it is? Who cares if it's only a marginal pass?

"I don't get this shit." Joe fumes and hits the wall again. Webster, trying to look invisible by the microwave, spills his cup of milk in fright.

"It's just simple statistics." George mutters back.

Joe's blood boils. "Yeah? Why haven't you solved it then, huh?"

"Because you keep whining like a bitch."

"Fuck you!" Joe snaps, then growls in frustration. _Fucking - stupid - useless - shit!_ He tears the first pages of his textbook in half, then throws it on the dirty ground and marches off. Unbelievable.

He grabs his coat and goes for a walk around the block. It's February, and the streets are cold and deserted, lit up only by the glow of retreating highlights and the odd neon-framed corner shop. He doesn't mind. The chilly darkness puts out the fire of his desperation, and moving chases the restless anger out of his legs. He sticks his hands in his pockets and listens as the city's breathing slows down and warm orange window-constellations light up in the night. There's comfort in solitude sometimes.

It takes him almost twenty minutes to cool down and to realise he messed up, royally so. He and George have never fought before. They have never called each other names, never raised their voices, everything was perfect in the past four months - Christ, why did Joe have to ruin it like this? In such an idiotic, childish way. He shouldn't have lost his temper just because an assignment made him feel stupid. Did his words hurt George?

As panic starts to flood his mind, he hurries back home and straight to the kitchen, hoping he still has a chance to catch George and apologise. The place is empty. Joe's notes are piled on his laptop in a neat stack, and his torn textbook pages have been fastened back together with cello tape. There's no message, none of George's little sticky notes, and no text on Joe's phone either. His heart plummets, but there's nothing he can do now, he'll make up with George tomorrow. With a heavy sigh, he gathers his stuff and returns to his room.

"Oh." He startles when he opens the door.

George is inside, bent over the desk to write something on a crumpled notebook page Joe left there. He straightens when he hears Joe, but doesn't look at him, just zips his coat and takes a step to walk out.

"Thank Webster for the textbook." He says. His voice is flat and frosty. "I finished your assignment."

Joe bows his head in shame. "You shouldn't have. It wasn't that important."

"No, you were right. I said it was simple when it really wasn't." George sighs and shifts from foot to foot, still not looking at Joe. His phone beeps. "My uber will be here in a minute."

Joe drops his things on the desk and puts his hands on George's elbows, pleading. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to act like a prick. I'm tired and I just - I didn't know how to handle my frustration. I'm sorry."

George glances at him for a split second, his resolves crumbling. He makes a half-hearted attempt to leave. "I gotta go, we'll talk later."

Joe grabs George's hands this time and squeezes them. "Come on, Georgie, I'm sorry. Please, don't go just yet."

George's lips waver, then curve into a reluctant smile. He starts swaying closer instead of away. "It's past midnight, Joe."

Joe raises George's right hand to his lips and presses a long kiss into his palm, then another to the inside of his wrist. Almost by habit, George's hand cups his cheek and his thumb traces a path under Joe's eye. Joe steps a little closer and caresses George's forearm. "Sleep here tonight?"

George can't hide his smile anymore. "Joe..."

It's the sign that finally pushes the weight off Joe's chest. He grins and pulls George into a hug, and they make out right there in their winter coats until they are sweating from the warmth. The relief is even better than the make-up sex that follows.

_~End~_

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is appreciated. :)


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